It would have to be the stadium. Sixty thousand watching his genius, his pyrotechnic display. Longfield stadium was like a second home to him, he knew every nook and cranny, every blade of grass, and how everything worked. Most importantly he still had inside access to the ground. He could watch from the stands, Coach Abel Kane held no grudge. But the new coach would die along with the others.
“When’s the next fertilizer delivery Eddie, grass looking a bit rough?” Pitch had to be perfect.
Edward Nicholls, the head groundsman nodded. “Fairview delivery on schedule for next week, Coach. Tank is nearly empty, it’ll be all used up by Friday evening after the sprinklers finish.”
Coach Mason frowned.
“The field will be A1 for Saturday, Nicholls added. “We’ll be in fine shape, don’t worry.”
I’m not worrying, thought Coach Mason, especially now. He wouldn’t even need to bleed the tank, it being empty and all Friday evening. All he had to do was to arrange a special delivery. Gasoline.
The old farm up for rental sale was ideal. One-way dirt road, unkempt bushes providing cover on both sides, leading up to the barn. Not yet derelict, but it needed a new roof. Rusting generator inside. A dozen or so hay-bales, strewn across the ground. Even a work bench and a small fork lift. Best of all, four fuel drums and several gas cans, all empty. Plenty of space, and no one to disturb him.
“You looking for a delivery next Friday afternoon, that right?” asked the Fairview man. “I’m not sure we can get it out that quick.” He went into a tedious explanation, as if Mason could care. “I got two men off sick as it is. Backlog’s piling up. That’s the trouble at this time of year. Everyone wants deliveries.”
Mason got the drift. “A half-load will do me for now, simple 10-10-10 mix.” He pushed a couple of hundred across the table. “I appreciate your assist to get my corn crop in before the rains.” He waited. It would be simpler this way.
The man’s eyes fixated on the money. Like cash-flow was king. He picked up the bills and pocketed them. “Half load, you say. Okay you’re on, what’s the address?”
Mason checked on the ground staff. Once preparations were finished Friday evening, apart from maybe the head groundsman, they wouldn’t be needed. They could relax and watch the game, take their family to enjoy the fireworks display. And this year it would be spectacular. The best ever. He would see to that. The head groundsman could be an irritant, well he would take care of him, if he got in the way. No one could stop him. No one.